Tabula Rasa
by babyemery125
Summary: Commander Elsa Anna Shepard went by a wide array of names in her life; the word a person calling them-self always seeming like much too big a part of life to be left up to fate. So hers was always up for improvement. As she neared the end of her life, however, it seemed "Shepard" would be her official title. That was, until a rowdy lieutenant decided she was more of a Lola...
1. Chapter One: Names

**Ok, I hate long intros so I will limit all comments, concerns, notes, to the _end_ of this story.**

**DISCLAIMER: All Characters belong to Bioware, I own nothing (but believe me, if I did, James would have a much bigger role in Shep's cabin than just commenting on how "soft" it looks; preferably naked, covered in chocolate sauce). In addition, all mentions to Disney belong to Disney (obviously), and any other cultural references, yeah, you get it; I suck and don't have any original characters. ONWARD!**

Chapter One: Names

Elsa Anna Shepard always hated her name. It was popular back in the 2000s when the classic animation, Frozen, was released. She'd seen the movie. It was cute, great for girly girls and little kids, but definitely not her thing. Her mother, on the other hand, loved it; even obsessed over it (support pages, fan fiction stories, even house decorations modeled after the film marked her childhood with her mother's obsession). Despite being a hard-hearted, dedicated soldier for the Alliance Navy, Hannah Shepard had a soft spot for princesses and classic Disney. Especially Frozen.

Thus the name. And, God, how dreadful it was. Every time someone called her by her given name, whether it was her mother, a teacher, or a friend, she wanted to march up to the supreme court and demand it be legally changed. It made her think of girly dresses, done up hair and faces, and weak-willed women; all the things Elsa strived to avoid and overcome.

Not that Frozen really reflected these themes entirely, there were some good lessons in there toward the end, but a lot of the stereotypes were still present. If she had to watch Disney classics, she would much rather go for the Princess and the Frog or Brave. Those were girls she could relate to. Strong, but still realistically female.

Her mother knew this, and was, luckily, not opposed to her daughter calling herself a wide array of names of her choosing. First it was Merida, after the alabaster-skinned mass of red curls that had taught her men aren't the end all be all; there's more to a girl's story than her suitor's looks and prowess in battle. That lasted for the first four years of her mandatory schooling. Then it was Katniss, Laura, Tiana, Elizabeth; each name adding a bit of the person behind it to the small little girl who desperately wanted to be like them.

It wasn't until she enlisted that she stopped hiding behind the names of others and actually made one for herself. Shepard became her new title. She was a soldier, then a leader, then a hero, all under the good name of the Alliance military; everything she'd aspired to be. She saved lives and made peace where she could, overcame her name, and accomplished all the things she'd dreamed of as a little girl, and more.

And then she died.

In her last moments, while the crushing lack of atmosphere in space pushed in against her armor and her oxygen mask slowly malfunctioned to complete uselessness, Shepard couldn't help but think that this was the perfect way to go out. She'd saved the galaxy and, in turn, millions of innocent lives. Going down with her ship was a fitting end to her legacy.

As her brain glossed over and her eyelids became heavy, her last thought was, strangely, of the beautiful princess Elsa standing over her kingdom in her elegant dress with the scepter indicating her royal title held regally in her hand. Then the world went dark.

There was fuzziness, then; small flashes of light, faces, and a lasting feeling of well-being. Even when she woke up and knew that Cerberus had brought her back, she couldn't be sure if those brief scenes of bliss were drug-induced hallucinations brought on by her gradual regaining of consciousness, or, perhaps, a quick peek at life beyond the living. Either way, Shepard was revived and the only thing she could focus on was the honorable death she'd been robbed of.

Now she had to take on the crushing responsibilities of her life once more, the fate of the galaxy (literally) resting on her shoulders with none of her trusted crew by her side, and all under the ruling of a terrorist organization she'd once had a hand in taking down. Garrus and Tali joining the crew did help to lessen the blow a bit, but she still longed for the quiet innocence of Liara, the brutish wisdom of Wrex, and the unassuming kindness of Kaidan. Her months on the SR-2 blurred together, a mixture of depression, incredible responsibility, and loneliness weighing her down with each passing day.

Shepard was an Alliance soldier through and through. She took pride in her badge and worked hard for the ranking of "Commander". The day she was awarded the Normandy was one of the happiest of her life. To be separated from that, from all the work she'd done to make a name for herself, one to be proud of, was complete torture.

She didn't seem deserving of the name Shepard anymore. That name was a symbol of a great woman who had overcome all barriers and saved the world, against all odds. She was a legend. Whoever she was after Cerberus brought her back...well, she wasn't sure who she was. But she didn't feel like Shepard anymore. She wasn't a kid anymore, though, so she couldn't just change her name on a whim like she did back in grade-school. So Shepard it was. And every time someone called her by that name, she mourned the loss of the woman who'd earned the respect it instilled in all those who uttered it.

Even after she destroyed the Collector Base, it seemed inappropriate. Sure she'd regained the legacy, but then Aratoht happened and the Shepard name was tarnished once more. Hundreds of thousands of lives lost, all because of her. Yes, it was necessary; she had no choice. But it didn't change the fact that it was _her_ hand that had pressed the button. Those lives were _her_ responsibility, and she'd let them all down. Not a day would go buy that she wouldn't think of the batarian colonists. Maybe if she'd gotten there earlier, if she had fought harder so as not to get sedated and lose those two days in the first place, she could have warned those civilians and saved those lives. But that was out of her control. What happened had happened, and no amount of "what if"s and "could have"s would change that fact. That didn't change how she felt about the name, however.

Shepard was a wholesome, good-willed Alliance soldier who saved lives. This new woman had been reduced to, as Garrus liked to put it, ruthless calculus. That was not honorable, not prideful; the two values the Shepard name most stood for. But she was stuck with it.

It wasn't necessarily that Shepard was now dishonorable or anything, but the woman behind the name had changed so much over the years, she wasn't even remotely the same person anymore. So when her new Lieutenant, a cocky soldier with a penchant for flirting and self-doubt, called her Lola, she didn't reprimand him. It was a welcome change; a new beginning. As was he.

If she was being honest with herself, she didn't really want to rekindle a relationship with Kaidan. Sure she'd waited for him, hadn't indulged in any of her new willing crew members, even after the events of Horizon. And when the suicide mission finally rolled around, instead of inviting someone up to her cabin to fill those lonely last hours with whatever cheap thrill she could find, she'd longed for Kaidan and hoped that, no matter what happened in the Omega-4 Relay, he may find it in himself to one day forgive her.

Looking back she realized she was just being melodramatic and resentful. Instead of making the most of what she thought were her last hours, Shepard sat there spitefully longing for a man she didn't actually want in that moment. If there was one thing she sought to protect more than the galaxy, it was her pride, and Kaidan had greatly damaged it when he threw those accusations at her on Horizon and made her second guess her own judgments and decisions. Any opportunity that came along for her to prove him wrong and make him regret his attitude toward her, you bet your ass Shepard was gonna take it.

So when their reunion finally came, an event she had been (and she would bet last year's salary he had too), building up in her mind for months, even years if you count the time she was in the land of the dead, it was anticlimactic and dissatisfying. He insulted her, she scolded him. She insulted him, he was cold to her. It was a cycle it seemed they would never escape from. But then he was hurt and all her doubts washed away, replaced with the remnants of the love she still felt for him as she feared for his very existence.

In that moment all the petty things they'd been fighting over, the things she'd been angry about and had been planning on throwing in his face, seemed to disapparate before her eyes. He was Kaidan. One of the very select few men she'd ever loved (Romantically at least, Garrus and Wrex both fell under the category of loved men, but she couldn't say she wanted either of them in her bed. She loved aliens and all, but had never really felt that nibbling curiosity at what was hidden beneath the heavy armor and family carapaces). For the longest time Shepard believed Kaidan was it for her; the man she would end up with. He was kind, considerate, a soldier like herself. He understood her and she understood him. They were so similar. It didn't take long for them to just _get_ each other. They rarely fought, they always knew what to say to the other person. It was easy, and thoughtless, and just..._Kaidan_.

From that perspective, could she really blame him for being so angry when she joined Cerberus? One of their biggest connections was their joined loyalty for the Alliance. She disappears for two years, presumed dead, and the first thing he finds out is she's abandoned the one thing she swore she'd never betray, the thing they had most in common. Shepard would have been angry too, had the roles been reversed. But her temper got in the way and she couldn't see it that way and, well, the rest was history.

So when he was lying in that bed, bruised and bloody, the Huerta Memorial staff rushing around her, she remembered how easy it used to be. For a moment she could pretend it still was easy, too, with him out cold and vulnerable; innocent. She was so thankful when she found out he was going to be alright, and was anxious to visit him once more, but when his first message showed up in her email...it all came crashing down on her again. This wasn't the Kaidan she'd known on the SR-1, nor was she the Commander he'd loved.

She really did love Kaidan. He was from her original crew, they'd been through hell together, Ash's death; he was one of her best friends. Considering their history, she felt like she owed it to him to give it another chance.

All their conversations, though, their attempts at flirting; it seemed forced. That original easiness when it came to things romantic between them seemed to be gone. She was planning on breaking it off, saving them both the pain of rekindling a relationship that would never work, but something always seemed to get in the way. First he was too sick, she didn't want to upset him. Then he was going to be a Spectre, she didn't want to put a damper on his mood! Then her mission was too important to be worried about Kaidan being angry with her.

Eventually the Commander gave up and just resigned herself to being with Kaidan, even if she didn't feel that original spark anymore. He wasn't even close to the worst possible choice, and she still enjoyed being with him; would even say she still loved him. Besides, it wasn't like her chances were very good of making it out of this war in one piece, and being with someone you can certainly like was a lot better than being alone, or with somebody you _don't_ like.

But then...then James had to go screw everything up.

The name he'd given her, Lola, cut through the cloudy haze that surrounded her life, offering a clear path of understanding. When she was around him, she could see clearly, could think clearly. She wasn't caught up thinking about all the ways in which she'd failed him or he'd disappointed her, like with Kaidan; she could actually enjoy herself. He was new, fresh, fun, exciting. It was a new beginning that she hadn't realized how much she needed until it was just within her reach.

Names had always been her vice. For others, they didn't seem so important; for her, they were everything. And he had gifted her the one thing she'd been longing for since she first woke up on that cold, hard Cerberus hospital bed with two years of her life stolen from her; a new one.

**Author's Note:**

**IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ:**

**Ok, so that is the intro-thingy to this fic. I have a lot of ideas for this story and definitely plan on continuing it, but I won't really post regular updates unless I know there are people somewhere out there who are reading and waiting for new chapters. So if you read and liked Chapter One, post a review! It doesn't have to be super long and developed (although that is greatly appreciated), just any quick, little comment to let me know you're interested and want to see more and I will definitely try my best to crank out weekly chapters. **

**Not as important, but still recommended:**

**So this is actually the first story I'm posting on here. Not that it's really relevant, but it's big for me! It's definitely not the first fic I've ever written, not even remotely, but it's the first I've been brave enough to actually post online, for anyone to see. I am definitely not asking anyone to "go easy on me" or anything. Just because I've never posted fan fiction, doesn't mean I haven't published other things. I'm a big girl and I have experience in this so do not treat me any differently just because I'm a supposed "newbie" to this site. All criticism is welcome! My main goal, besides safely sharing my stories for anyone who decides to tune in, is to improve my writing! So any tips, changes, concerns you may have are very welcome! :)**

**Also, if I do find that people are interested and I decide to continue, the rating on this may eventually be upped to Mature. Just a warning. James and Shep are just too hot not to get some steamy scenes (not to mention the fact that they were gypped of really _anything_ in the games! I wanna see Vega in his boxers!). Don't worry, though, all sexy scenes will be in their own chapter, separate from the main story, so if you're not into that thing you can totally gloss over it and not miss anything important (besides James...with no clothes...pretty important if you ask me...).**

**As for updates; q****uality is _the_ most important thing to me. Anyone can sit down and write 2,000 words in thirty minutes and put it online, but it takes time to actually make it good. So, yeah, if I can't get out a quality chapter that I can be proud of in a week, then I will wait however long it takes before I post an update.**

**Anyway, that is all! Thank you so much for reading, you are A+. Stay classy, kids ;)**


	2. Chapter Two: Tattoos and New Ideas

**As always, author note is save for the end.**

**DISCLAIMER: All Characters belong to Bioware, I own nothing (but believe me, if I did, James would have a much bigger role in Shep's cabin than just commenting on the how "soft" it looks; preferably naked, covered in chocolate sauce). In addition, all mentions to Disney belong to Disney (obviously), and any other cultural references, yeah, you get it. ONWARD!**

Chapter Two: Tattoos and New Ideas

"Ow! _Damnit_! it's like you _want_ it to hurt," James whined, the Batarian behind him grunting in un-answer. Neiro had recommended this guy to him, the slippery bastard. James supposed in the middle of a war with the damn _Reapers_ his choices were gonna be pretty limited in the way of quality tattoo artists, but choosing one from the race that supposedly hated humans more than anything in the galaxy (probably even the Reapers if Shepard's history on Aratoht was being accounted for) probably was _not_ a good idea. His other tats hadn't hurt nearly this bad.

"You move again and you're really going to have something to complain about," the Batarian's raspy voice echoed in the small, empty storage container.

"Yeah, yeah," James snipped out in between grunts. He sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering his choice to join the N7 program, courtesy of the Commander's gentle urgings, and all that decision entailed. It was a big responsibility, Shepard was right about that, but he was up for it. He'd already made some tough decisions in his life (some bad and some good) but he knew that the N7 program would be one of the best.

Her footsteps signaled her arrival. She really wasn't very light on her feet, making her complete shit at tactical missions. Give her an assault rifle and enough cover and time to charge her biotics in-between throw downs, and she could take on any enemy (or amount of enemies) you threw at her. Ask her to put on a fancy outfit and take enemies down quietly without drawing attention, however, and she'd be dead in a minute.

"James," Lola drawled, swinging into sight from around the corner. He smirked at the ground, pushing the fluttering feeling in his stomach down before raising his eyes to catch her gaze.

"Commander. Didn't expect to see you down here." That was a lie. He most certainly _did_ expect to see her in the refugee camps. If he was being honest with himself, Shepard's frequent visits to that part of the Citadel had a big influence on his decision to go for the Batarian street artist rather than the high-end Asari artisan in the Presidium (that, and her _ridiculous_ prices).

He wasn't admitting that to himself, though. Really, then, it was just the money. Not like he was getting paid much saving the entire galaxy or anything...

"I was about to ask you that," Lola said, placing her hands on her hips in that commanding, Shepard way that only she could make sexy. Jesus, why'd she have to go and do that? As if she wasn't hot enough; as if he didn't have a hard enough time already keeping his attraction to her at bay and the flirting to a bare minimum.

He brought himself back to reality and explained his current predicament. Minus the part about the Batarian tattoo artist who had been purposefully digging down past the first couple layers of skin. The conversation took a flirtatious turn, naturally, as was James's way, but then she said something that knocked him straight into next Thursday.

"You ever gonna make good on all this flirting?" What. The. Hell. What did she mean by that? Did she _want_ him to, or was she just yanking his chain? God knew he _wanted_ to make good on it, but he was pretty certain _she_ didn't want that. She was with Major Alenko, wasn't she? Jesus, Lola was an enigma if he'd ever seen one.

Then he realized he hadn't said anything yet, or, rather, he'd been stammering aimlessly for the last few seconds. Just when he'd come up with a clever line, one that wouldn't sound at all assuming on his part and would leave any decision up to her, she let out the sexiest little laugh he'd ever heard in his life.

"That's what I thought." She flashed him a flirty, unjustly so, smirk that nearly had him losing it right then and there. "Later, Lieutenant." Shepard paused a moment, taking him in, before turning on her heels and walking the other way, her hips mesmerizing him with their gentle sway.

"Later," James said, mentally slapping himself. He had completely missed his opportunity. Even if she hadn't really meant her words, he was certain that, with the correct insinuations and flirtatious words on his part, he could leave her with something to think about. And maybe, just maybe, she would end up thinking as much about him in her free time as he did about her.

With his new tattoo finished, James painfully pulled his shirt back on, wincing as the now too-rough fabric rubbed against his sensitive skin. Thank Dios for medi-gel. Otherwise, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to gear up on the next mission without his shoulder falling off.

Back at his regular station on the Normandy, James's idle brain took up its favorite past-time once more; thoughts of Shepard. As he took apart each and every one of his guns, tweaking the wires for the hundredth time and upgrading the ammo for the thousandth time and cleaning the barrels for the millionth time, his brain went through compromising scenarios of his commander for the billionth time.

How pathetic could one man be? Fantasizing about a woman he could never get...wanting her more than any other woman he'd encountered. His own moral code banned him from pursuing a relationship with anyone, not to mention his _commanding officer_.

He'd given up fraternization the day he joined the military. That's not to say he hadn't been with a woman since then, not even slightly. There was no shortage of willing females whenever he was on shore-leave for a lonesome, over-worked soldier. All those women had been civvies, though; he had never been with one of his fellow soldiers. He always saw it as disrespectful, not just to the girl he was screwing, but to the badges they both wore.

Lola, though...she made him want to throw all those rules to the wind. She was everything he'd always been looking for; smart, independent, knows how to handle a gun, funny when she wants to be, serious when she has to be. He didn't know there were women like her out there.

There were rules for a reason, though, and he couldn't just go breaking them for...what was he even hoping to get out of pursuing Shepard? Hot sex? Yeah, of course. He knew she would be amazing in bed. Did he want more, though? Were his feelings deeper than just physical attraction? Whatever his intentions, the outcome would always be the same. She was off limits.

Even if he _did_ allow himself to pursue her, no way was she ever going to reciprocate any feelings.

No, he'd better just save them both any awkward situations and keep his relationship with the Commander strictly business. Better to be good friends than nothing at all. His relationships with all his squad mates should be kept one hundred percent platonic; _especially_ with his CO.

Feeling a little more grounded with his internal decision, James went back to his fantasizing. Yeah, he wasn't going to act on any of these...urges, but a little daydreaming never hurt anyone.

Shepard couldn't stop playing that last moment with James in her head. She'd gotten a little burst of courage and blurted out the words that had been stuck in her mind for days. _You ever gonna make good on any of this flirting?_ Her entire body seemed to freeze with anticipation as she waited for him to respond. But he just sat there, stuttering and stammering, and she'd quickly lost her nerve.

Savior of the Citadel, and, hopefully one day, the galaxy too, and she couldn't even make a move on her Lieutenant without backing down.

With a nervous laugh and a clever line, she'd removed herself from the situation, but was left with a lot of unanswered questions. She couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe, if she'd stayed just a little longer, the situation may have gone the way she'd hoped. Perhaps James really did want to "make good" on the suggestive lines and ambiguous moves he'd been throwing her way since the day he first stepped on the Normandy.

Either way, she'd gotten at least one clarification from the day's escapades; she and Kaidan were certainly not going to work. Whether or not James ever did make a move, she knew she couldn't think of Kaidan in the same way again. They'd both changed too much. If breaking it off with him meant loneliness leading up to her final moments, that was perfectly fine with her. Assuming Kaidan survived and she didn't, keeping up this illusion of a relationship would only hurt him exponentially after she passed on.

Not that she would be lonely either way. She would always have her crew; the family she'd never had growing up. The relationships she'd made over the years (alive _and_ dead) were lasting and durable. They would be more than enough to keep her strength up through whatever fight she was faced with, up until her dying day. Shepard didn't need romance to be capable; all she needed was her crew. Romance was just a small plus to the exponential love she already felt toward so many of those around her.

With her thoughts clear after her visit with James, and a sure destination in mind, Shepard entered the elevator and pressed the button to the Presidium Commons.

The doors opened onto a scene of destruction. It never ceased to amaze her how much damage Cerberus had done in the short time they had control of the Citadel, nor how quickly workers on the station were able to repair things. She headed down into the center of the Commons and to the small cafe that stood against the far left wall. Kaidan had said he'd be there. He wanted to meet for dinner.

She spotted him off in the corner, commandeering a small table next to the edge of the dining platform, overlooking the Presidium. He'd always been one for beautiful views.

Shepard stopped just short of where he sat, calming herself and taking a deep breath. No matter what had happened in their past, he was still a good friend whom she cared about greatly. She never wanted to hurt him. However, this was necessary in order to prevent as much pain for him in the future as possible. She simply couldn't offer any more of herself to him than she already had. Their past was too prevalent; too raw.

Talk to her in a year or two, when old wounds had healed and she'd been able to move past all those awful things he'd said to her, and maybe they could start things up again.

They didn't have another year, though. She didn't even know if they had another month. This was the only option for them.

Kaidan took it well, even seemed a little relieved. She couldn't help but wish she'd done that long before. And now she couldn't wait to be his friend once more, just like old times.

Shepard kept on telling herself she didn't need a man to be happy. She didn't need strong arms holding her at night to keep the nightmares away, nor did she need her insatiable desire for a certain Latino soldier quenched. She was a strong woman, men were an added benefit to her life, not a necessity. If James were to refuse her once more, it would be nothing; she wouldn't care.

But then...all the feelings would come crashing down on her all at once and she would remember just how potent they were. Shepard couldn't kid herself; she _desperately_ wanted love, and she desperately wanted _him_. James wasn't just another man she invited into her bed. He was something new, something she'd never experienced before. The things she felt for him went much deeper than a simple appreciation for his body, and that terrified her to her core. There was a potential there that Shepard was almost afraid to pursue at all. However, she'd never been afraid of the unknown, and she wasn't about to start now. This new situation would be dove into head first, not taking into consideration the consequences or could-be ramifications, as was the Shepard way.

She was a pathfinder; a trail-blazer. Not that the path of romance hadn't been traveled before, it'd been over-run and eroded by trillions before her. However, _she_ had never taken that last step into the void. _This_ had that potential; _James_ had that potential.

Shepard ran her hands against the shining walls of the Normandy as she walked onto the main deck. This was her home. It was her pride, her joy, her livelihood. Every happy moment of her life had occurred on the decks of this ship. She had no doubt that her future, however long, would be filled with happy moments all held within the metallic walls of the Normandy.

**Author's Note:  
So here's Chapter Two! It's a transitional chapter so it's kind of short and boring, but it will pick up in the next installment, I promise, so stay tuned! I'm REALLY excited for Ch. 3 and I'm feeling very inspired today so I may be able to write it and crank it out in the next day or two as I have a lot of travelling and down time this Holiday Weekend. Anyway, have an awesome Easter everybody (unless you don't celebrate it, then have an awesome weekend) and thank you so much for reading! Remember to review for faster updates! Stay classy, kids ;)**


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